Bella the Artist
by Aloony
Summary: Bellatrix Black went through school with a blank face. Her eyes always glinted eagerly though her too calm face and she gave people the strange feeling of being dissected whenever she looked at them. She was an artist and their flesh was her canvas. Short


**Title: Bella the Artist  
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**Summary: Bellatrix Black went through school with a blank face. Her eyes always glinted eagerly though her too calm face and she gave people the strange feeling of being dissected whenever she looked at them. She was an artist and their flesh was her canvas. Short. One-shot. Torture. R/R **

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Bellatrix Black went through school with a blank face. She had no outward emotions and no friends, but she had brains and a thirst for revenge as was proven when a boy who had said rude things about her suddenly found a few of his fingers missing. No one could ever connect her with the strange, cruel things that happened around the school to people she didn't like, but everyone knew she was doing it. Her eyes always glinted eagerly though her too calm face and she gave people the strange feeling of being dissected whenever she looked at them.

When she left school she instantly became a deatheater. Her lord told her to marry, as a cover, and she chose a man as cold and blank as she was, though he was less cruel. The only time she showed emotion was when torturing an innocent person. Her lord liked her thirst for blood and she became his favourite above all others. Her sisters had always been a bit afraid of her, though Andromeda hadn't let that fear stop her from marrying a common muggle. When Narcissa was married, she asked Bella to put in a good word for her husband, who was already a deatheater of high rank. She didn't of course, but Lucius still made it on his own. He was a cunning man with many faces.

Bellatrix knew her sister loved him and was disgusted by the emotion. She wanted to tear his pretty silver hair out and take a knife to his soft, white skin, but she couldn't because her Lord needed him. Some days she thought she would be better off without a lord telling her what to do, then he would give her a whole cell of small, frightened children to carve up with no consequences and she would love him once again. Her favourite curse soon became the cruciatus because the pain it caused was unparalleled.

When her lord fell she went with her husband and Barty Crouch Jr. to torture Frank and Alice Longbottom, mainly because she heard they had a child and she wanted to make it scream. She loved causing the innocent pain. Even her mother had never understood the thirst that drove her to hurt others.

Of course then she was sent to Azkaban and left to rot there. Every day her mind would imagine hurting the Minister, hurting the child who'd brought her lord down, the world awash in blood with only her left alive. She'd had dreams like that since childhood and in Azkaban she imagined them fulfilled. The screams would lull her to sleep at night and she would watch those in the cells next to her, wishing to be let free.

Her greatest fear was being locked in there forever without anyone to hurt. The dementors tried to take her dreams away but they were puzzled. Normally people would fear those dreams but Bella loved them. They made her smile. It wasn't happiness she felt when she dreamt, so it couldn't be taken from her.

She liked to think she was above such things as happiness. When she was finally released by her lord she felt the same as she always had except now she looked it. She had been beautiful before and her looks had hidden what was going on in her mind. Now she looked mad, that glint in her eyes was stronger and brighter and her form was painfully thin. She appreciated the hot food she ate but loved it when she was handed her wand. She picked up her old duties without a blink though the others who had been arrested were gibbering zombies. She tortured freely and laughed. Her lord still admired her and she was still the favourite.

When her lord vanquished all his enemies and ruled the Wizarding World, Bella's dreams came true. Her room had rows of chained prisoners attached to the walls as entertainment and she had a whole table of torture instruments. She spent hours in there, listening to their screams as she cut patterns into their skin.

She was an artist and their flesh was her canvas.


End file.
